Checkerboard
by xbechloex
Summary: Black. Grey. White. These colours rule our lives. No one knows what the other ones look like except the Lucky Ones- the ones who have found the magic, the ones who have found their soulmate. Have I found mine? Am I just imagining things? Well, all I know is those beautiful, peircing eyes are most definitely the epitome of every fact I have ever learned about the colour blue.
1. Why?

Black. White. Grey.

These three neutral colours seem boring, plain, dull, to say the very least. The scheme limits the variety of beauty and blinds an individual to the unique qualities other shades enhance.

Obvious negative impacts to neutrals.

At least that's what they say, the Lucky Ones. They go off on tangents about how 'life has changed so much', how 'they're so happy with the future', and how much more 'deliciously fabulous makeup is'. Okay, so maybe that last one isn't _everyone. _More like one of my closest friends: Stacie Conrad. Thankfully, I have Fat Amy to shut her up, conquering the conversations with her jokes and hilarious conquests.

What no one ever mentions, though, is how much you are used to it, the grey, the black, and the white. No one seems to ever remember the 'before' once they've seen the 'after'. No one emphasizes the way one feels before the 'magic' happens.

How does it feel?

It feels normal. Yes, normal. I don't know what this 'purple' looks like or how this 'yellow' glows in the sunlight, but you don't really think about that stuff. You see your normal, everyday shades of grey, black, and white, and you move on. The dull, unimportant, dreary qualities don't really affect you that horrendously, at least, that you know of. There's nothing to compare it to, really, so why would the average colour scheme of you life inflict sadness and poor health? Exactly. It wouldn't. Doesn't. The only thing that makes you feel bad and alone is the pure joy the Lucky Ones eminate. _They_ are the ones that make you feel depressed, like you're smaller than them. _They_ are the ones that make you feel insignificant and boring, not the colors you see everywhere. _They_ are the ones that eminate everything you wish you had, igniting envy in your veins that later fades into doubt and hopelessness.

Because why couldn't you be a Lucky One? Why haven't you been blessed with the 'magic'? Will you ever be one of them? Has your magic already been taken away? What did you do wrong?

Why haven't you found your soulmate?

**A/N: Hey guys! Yep, I'm still alive. No, I'm not giving up on Airlines. Yes, this is another multi-chap fic. It's based on a tumblr post I've seen multiple times and I thought 'why not?'. Now, should I do Jaubrey or Staubrey? I'm personally indifferent to both and think they're both really cute, so I want you guys's input! Sorry for this chapter being so short, it's more like an introductory chap than anything else. Love you awesome nerds!**


	2. I Love This Colour On You

**A/N: Hey-o dudes, dudettes, and all variations between! I am still very much at work trying to figure out where I am going with my YouTuber AU (if you haven't heard of it well now you have) and how to proceed with Airlines (yes I'm trash for leaving you like that). Just remember how much I love you guys while you're outside with your pitchforks, okay? Anyway, I want to thank my WONDERFUL Beta percabethatw (check her out) for correcting any and all mistakes I am prone to make. **

**Follow my fanfic page on tumblr at xbechloex .tumblr. com**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>"Okay, B, how do I look?"<p>

"Fan-tastic."

"Bec, come on, does this color look great on me or what?" I looked down at the gray dress my best friend wore. It was meant to be a rhetorical question, but I answer anyway.

"Yeah. Totally." Sarcasm is my best quality, I must say.

"Ugh! You're no help, you know that?"

"No, really, Stace, gray is fabulous on you."

"Shut up." She throws the nearest pillow at my face, a grey one with black designs on it. She says it's blue with darker blue designs, but I tell her I have no idea what she's talking about. The statement is usually followed by an exasperated sigh and her mumbling something about needing to find me a woman.

Yes, a women. It's not that I'm only attracted to them, no, I've been attracted to my fair share of males, but I just know my soul mate is a she. It's weird, you know?Like, I could want to have sex with plenty of dudes, but I just have this feeling, this certainty, that my soul mate is a woman. Does that make any sense?

"Actually, B, it's pink. This is pink, and these," she points to her something-inch heels, "are white."

"I know those are white. In case you forgot," like everyone does, "you see white, grey, and black before you find your soul mate."

"Yeah, yeah." She waves her hand dismissively. "But I'm rockin' this dress," She continues, smirking cockily. I roll my eyes

"As always."

She's been getting ready for a date, actually, with her soul mate, another woman. In fact, we became closer because she was the only one I found who understood the feeling I've always had about my own soul mate. I haven't met the woman yet, and, needless to say, I'm pretty surprised about it. I mean, my best friend met her soul mate, and I haven't even gotten to see her? Wait, you know what? I'm going to ask her about that.

"Hey, Stace?"

"Hmm?" She hums distractedly as she continues to check herself out in the mirror.

"How come I haven't met her?"

"Who?" She has a confused expression on her face. It was a kind of random thing to bring up.

"Your soul mate- what's her name again? Audrey? Anna?"

"Aubrey, and that's a good question. I guess we haven't thought about it?"

"You know that's not it. It just hasn't come up, I guess. Well, whatever. Point is, I want to meet her."

That simple statement put a blinding smile on her face. No, wait. Mischievous. That smile is definitely mischievous.

"Well," Oh, no. "She does have this beautiful best friend-"

"Stacie."

"Becccaaaa," She whines in protest. It was silent for a few beats, Stacie trying to silently convince me and me being stubborn as ever.

"…..How beautiful?" No, of course I'm not conceding! I'm just merely testing the waters. Nonetheless, she smiles triumphantly.

"Drop dead gorgeous. Red hair, blue eyes, killer body, and a damn good tan."

"Oh? Wow….I don't know what any of that means."

"Not even 'killer body'?" I give her a pointed look, causing a smirk to adorn the taller woman's face. "So, what do you say?"

I twist my mouth to the side as I weigh my options. Pros? Meet a cute girl. Meet best friend's soul mate. Might meet my soul mate-noting that it would be unlikely. Cons? Said cute girl might not be my soul mate. I could be incredibly awkward if she is my soul mate - okay, no, I will be incredibly awkward. I could screw up my best friend's date. I could completely weird out possible soul mate. Okay, yeah, I guess cons outweigh the-

"Don't you dare over-think this, B! You will not screw up my date! It's with my soul mate, isn't it? Besides, it's not like it's our first date or anything."

Shit, she's onto me. Okay, why not? Other than the fact that I will make a fool out of myself and probably pass out from awkwardness, what else could go wrong?

Okay, a lot of things, but let's not worry about that. Badass Beca spits in the face of worry. Badass Beca will rise against social anxiety. Badass Beca needs to stop thinking in third person.

"Fine." She squeals in response, tackling me in a bear hug.

"No, stop. No, Stace, off." I try to pull her off me, "Okay, Stacie, losing blood circulation!" Finally, I manage to pry her arms off of me.

"Ohmygod, this will be so great! We're going to go shopping and get you a dress and some rockin' heels and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down. Who the fuck said anything about a dress?!"

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><p>"This is stupid."<p>

"You look fine, Bec."

"No, I know I look fine. Especially because I talked you out of that stupid dress."

"It was a great dr-!"

"No, Stacie. No, it wasn't."

"Ugh, whatever."

"Anyway, it's the whole idea of this date. It's stupid. Why did I agree to this?"

"Because-"

"Rhetorical question." Stacie huffs, rolling her eyes at me. "I do pull this off really well, though. The black brings out the black in my eyes."

"Beca, it's velvet red. And FYI, your eyes are actually like a steely-"

"Don't care." That was a damn lie. I have always wondered what color my eyes were. The Lucky Ones always talk about eyes being the "window to one's soul". That's why it's rumored the first color you see are your soul mate's eyes. Every shade of that color turns up everywhere, "lighting up your world with your new favorite color".

Can you even have a favorite color? With all the "vibrant", "beautiful", "breathtaking" colors out there, how can someone even consider a favorite?

"Okay, we're here."

Wait, what? I snap my head to the side to peak out the window. Yep, we're here. The most beautifully decorated building in all of Barden. The most popular club in all of Atlanta.

The best gay club in Georgia.

Shit.


End file.
